Once things were cleared away, all the kids were running around screaming, yelling, and getting into (and out of) things, while the adults either played Monopoly or caught up on some must-see TV.
As I sat there relaxing, my son’s face popped into my head randomly. Usually at my friend’s house, I’m not worried about where my son is because more often than not, one of her three daughters’ will have Monkey in check. But the hackles on my neck were raised, so I looked over in the general direction of where he might have been, and saw some Bad News happening in real time: Monkey had his powdered formula container and was shaking it like a champagne bottle at the World Series.
I did what I could to help and swept most of it up. Then my friend - who did not seem to flinch at the site of powdered milk all over her foyer - vacuumed it up like it was nothing. Um, mortified, much?
Anyway, after some time, we called it a night and drove home, happy, full, and carefree. That is, until we got home and saw the real damage of the Bad News: Monkey also sprayed the Powder Love inside everything in his diaper bag… and all over my beloved purse and Blackberry.
Interesting Fact Number One: Did you know that powdered formula is sticky, even when dry? And even when a brush or towel passes over it (or you turn blue from trying to blow it off), it refuses to budge?
Interesting Fact Number Two: Did you know that even though you may think you are making your life easier by putting your purse and phone in a large canvas bag (so as to be able to carry a bunch of other things at the same time), that same canvas bag also doubles as a Death Trap for said items?
It’s midnight as I write this and I am still trying to get bits of formula out of the crevices of my purse and phone’s speaker. It’s worse than sand! But at least sand, when dry, will fall off. This stuff is dry and sticking to everything. I’m so afraid of my purse getting ruined. Don’t even get me started on my phone.
And this is why I can’t have nice things. Because even when I vow to take care of my things, there is a little boy who lives in my house that doesn’t recognize vows. Or rules. Or order.
So, there are only three ways I can protect the nice things we have from being ruined:
- Lock them up in a hermetically sealed vault, never to see the light of day – that is, until Monkey turns thirty
- Lock Monkey up in a hermetically sealed vault, never to see the light of day – that is, until Monkey turns thirty
- Do not have nice things until Monkey turns thirty
I. Want. To. Cry.